InSideAway
by Gabs
Summary: S/S-S/V- where do you turn when you've lost everything? For the SD-1 July challenge.


InSideAway

We all know they don't belong to me, though I wouldn't mind having Will all to myself…

This is set after The Telling, but not the very end. It picks up after the Syd/Freplica fight, and works on the assumption that Freplica bit the dust. This is for the SD-1 July challenge.

          The only constant is change. Cliché, but true. The problem there arises only when change becomes a little too constant, to the point where you can't trust anything will be there tomorrow. A life lived in fear… is that a life truly worth living? 

          My life, over the past few years, has been a series of changes- most of them for the worse. They have all led me to where I am right now, lying next to a man I care for, but don't love, wondering if life is worth all the pain.

It all started when one of my best friends was killed and, preposterous as it sounds, replaced by a double. For the longest time, none of us had a clue. But then, the walls all came down, and the truth was revealed. That night, as I watched somebody wearing Francie's face die, I knew life could never again be the same.

          There's a blank after that, I'm not entirely sure for how long. But when I woke up, I was in a hospital bed, with Vaughn sitting next to me, clutching my hand. As happy as I was to see him, there was one thing I had to know before anything else.

          "Vaughn… is Will… did he…?" Looking surprised, Vaughn moved to his feet and hugged me tightly.

          "You're awake! God Syd, you had me so scared… all of us were worried. I'm so-" I had to cut him off.

          "Vaughn, what about Will?" He pulled away and smiled lightly.

          "Will's ok. He's hurting pretty bad, but he survived." I shut my eyes and released a breath.

          "I was so afraid… I saw him in the tub, and he was-"         

          "No, Syd. He's fine."

          "Are you sure?"

          "Positive. I promise." I knew Vaughn would never lie to me, especially about something so important, but I was still apprehensive.

          "I'm sure you can go see him in a little while, if you'd like that." I nodded quickly.

          "Thank you." He merely smiled and proceeded to tell me what had happened.

          "You apparently had a fight with Fr- Allison. You can probably fill in the details of that better than I could. I found you when I came to pick you up. I don't think I've ever been so scared, Syd. The place was absolutely torn up, and I saw Will in the tub, Francie dead, and you lying there… I almost lost it right there, but I called 911. Will was rushed to the ER, and they managed to save him. He lost a lot of blood, but he's going to be ok. We've been here ever since." I didn't bother to ask him how long it had been; in truth, I don't think I really wanted to know. But there was one thing that did catch my attention.

          "Who is 'we' referring to?"

          "Well, aside from you and Will, I've been here, and so has your father. Weiss, Dixon, Marshall, and Carrie drop in a lot, and Kendall even poked his head in once." 

"Kendall?" I almost laughed, but then my thoughts were filled with Francie, and I instantly sobered. Vaughn noticed.

"Syd? What's wrong?"

"It's… nothing. I just need to rest for a while."

"Of course… I'm sorry. I'm going to go talk to your dad, ok?" I nodded.

"Thank you Vaughn." He didn't say anything, merely slipped out of the room and down the hall. I turned over and caught sight of a clock. 12:45. 

The next 20 minutes were spent thinking about Francie, which is something I still do all the time. I blame myself for what happened to her; who else would I blame? If she weren't my best friend, she wouldn't have been killed so needlessly. It's not fair. But then, life is never fair. 

I glance at the man in bed with me. His back is to me, and I can't tell if he's asleep or awake. I hope he's sleeping peacefully, but knowing him as well as I do, I'm sure he's wide awake, worrying about me. He always seems to be able to sense when I'm troubled. I don't want to disturb him anymore, so I slowly get out of bed and walk out of the room. I hope he'll fall back to sleep, but it's more likely he'll follow me, try to console me. He always does.

This is the same routine we go through every night. She lies awake, thinking. About what, I don't know. I can never get her to tell me. But I can safely presume it to be about her life. So much has happened to her over the past few years, it can't be easy for her to deal with. But she never lets me in to help, no matter how much I want to. Together, we picked up the pieces of her old life, and put them back together in a whole new way, but I don't think she's happy now. She wants what she had before, in spite of all the pain it caused her. She wants that home, that life… that love.

I know she's grateful to me, and I know she cares about me, but if she had a choice, I also know this is not where she would be.  Unfortunately for her, there is no turning back time. I continue holding on to the hope that someday, she too will realize that to be a fact, and that she may eventually come to regard this as where she is supposed to be. But I believe it's a false hope; deep down, I know she will never accept what happened.

With a sigh, I get out of bed, pull on a pair of pants, and head down the hall in search of her. She has presumably gone to her 'safe spot,' a small room overlooking a lake with a castle upon the shore. It's her favorite view from anywhere in the world. The room itself is quite bare- dark blue walls, black carpeting consistent with the rest of our home, and one single open window. She has boarded the other windows of the room, claiming that it helps her feel more protected. She allows no one to enter her safe spot… no one but me.

This night, she is sitting on the windowsill, staring at the distant castle. I move a few steps towards her, and take in the view for myself. It is beautiful, I can't deny that. The moonlight reflects off the surface of the water, casting an eerie glow into the room. The castle is practically obscured by fog, though some of the surrounding trees rise above the mist. Sydney is completely entranced, but I know she is aware of my presence.

"Couldn't sleep?" she finally whispers, not turning from her view.

"Of course I couldn't, angel. You weren't there. Sydney, what's bothering you?" I keep my tone low, matching hers. I don't truly expect an answer. When she's in her zone, as she is now, she doesn't need help from anyone.

"Have a seat," she eventually invites. I sigh lightly, and sit down on the only chair in the room, content to watch her. She fascinates me, always has, and is at her most enchanting when she's like this. Nothing can disturb her, nothing can hurt her, and I can see her issues being sorted out right before my eyes. The problems will be back in the morning, they always are, but it's a comfort to watch them melt away each night.

A few months later, Will and I were both completely healed, and trying to adjust to life without Francie. For his part, Will tucked away all the pictures he had of her, storing them safely under his new bed. I always figured it was more because the memory of someone with her face trying to kill him was too painful to deal with. But we never talked about it. The topic of Francie became off limits, a violation of unspoken rules. A short time later, he had saved up enough money to rent his own apartment. Vaughn had practically moved in, so I wasn't lonely, but I still missed Will. We remained close, but I always felt an underlying current of tension. Our relationship had changed, and there was no way to set it right.

And then, Sark had escaped CIA custody. No one was quite sure how it happened, but it was generally assumed to be an inside job. Two CIA officers disappeared the same time as Sark did, and most people shifted the blame to them- Kendall included. He ordered a full-scale manhunt for Sark and his alleged accomplices, but it never came to fruition. Sark was still free… as were Sloane and my mother. My disappointment and disillusionment with the CIA only intensified with this latest blunder. But still, I stayed. 

And then, almost a year later, on the 4th of July, another change shook my life. 

Vaughn and I were to meet that night to watch the fireworks. I was sitting on a bench in the park, drinking lemonade and waiting for him. The fireworks soon started, and he was still nowhere in sight.  I enjoyed the show as much as possible until finally, my cell phone rang. I answered, expecting to hear Vaughn's voice on the other end. Instead, it was Will.

"Syd?"

"Hi Will, what's up?"

"It's bad Syd, really bad."

"What, your new apartment?"

"No. Syd, there was an accident."

"Oh my god Will, are you all right?"

"I'm fine Syd, I wasn't exactly involved. But Vaughn…" he trailed off, and I found myself unable to breath.

"Syd… they don't think he's going to make it." One last firecracker went off in the sky, showering the night with sparks of deep red.

"You can't be serious," I breathed, leaving my lemonade on the bench as I ran for my car.

"You know I would never joke about something like this Syd. They're not sure how long he'll hold on… you'd better get to the hospital."

"I'm on my way!" I snapped.

"I'll wait outside for you," he said shortly, before hanging up. I briefly felt bad for yelling at him, but my mind instantly went back to Vaughn. This couldn't be happening; I couldn't lose him too. I couldn't picture life without him.

I drove like a maniac to get to the hospital, angrily turning my radio off as I head the song California Love began drifting across. True to his word, Will was anxiously waiting for me when I arrived. He grabbed my hand as I stepped out of the car, and began leading me.

"Come on, no time to waste." We ran through the hospital corridors until we reached the ER.

"Michael Vaughn… where is he?" Will demanded of a passing nurse, who shrugged apologetically. We located him a moment later… just in time to see one of the doctors pull the sheet up over his battered face.

"No… no, it's not possible," I protested. Will drew a shaky breath.

"Oh, Syd…"

"No!" I screamed. "This can't be happening… it can't be real. They've got the wrong guy, that's not him! It can't be!" I tried to push past Will and get into the room, but he grabbed me and prevented my entrance.

"But it is, Syd! I was there, remember? I saw what happened! Another car slammed into the driver side, and Vaughn's car went off the side of the road. The other car hit me too, that's how I got this!" He pointed towards his blackening eye and bloody lip. "I'm sorry Syd, but it's the truth." I stared into his eyes for a long time before reality finally set in.

"Will… he's dead… Vaughn is dead!" His eyes softened, and I could almost see tears starting.

"I know Syd… I'm so sorry."

"No… no, this isn't right! It's not fair! I can't live without him- I don't _want_ to live without him. I can't do it Will!" He pulled me into a strong hug as the tears overtook me.

"I'm sorry Syd. I know life isn't fair- believe me, I know. And I know it hurts, so much that you don't even want to try to survive. But you have to, Syd. You have to. Believe it or not, this isn't the end of the world. I know it feels like it, like you have no reason to live, like there's no life beyond this. And there shouldn't have to be one, we shouldn't have to deal with death and move on, but we do. We have to move on, and we have to survive, if only to honor their memory." In my own grief, I had forgotten that Will had lost Francie just one short year ago.

"Will, I'm so sorry. It's…" Whatever other words I had been trying to form were lost amidst another wave of tears.

"It's ok, Syd. Just… you have to promise me something. Promise me that you won't give up on life. Promise me that you'll live, that you'll try to find happiness again. You know as well as I, that's what he would want. You promise me." The last three words were covered in sorrow, and I could hear him struggling to control his own pain.

"I promise Will. I promise." We stood there in silence, Will's strong arms holding me up as I continued to stare into the room where Vaughn had drawn his last breath.

Tears have begun trickling down her face, and it feels like a dagger to my own heart. I can't stand to see her hurting, and that's exactly what she's feeling right now. I know the moment she must be reliving; she always cries when she thinks of it. 

I feel as though I'm intruding upon something very personal, and so I turn away and drift into my own thoughts.

I was on a mission in Honduras, late in July of that year. Nothing too big- simple smash and grab, stealing a computer disk from a very wealthy man in Innsbruck, Austria.  When I got there, I was more than a little surprised to find one Sydney Bristow climbing in the window. I quickly grabbed the disk, and held it up triumphantly.

"Looking for this, Miss Bristow?" She stared at me for a long moment, and I could see she didn't truly care.

"Hand it over, Sark."

"Now why would I want to do that?"

"Because the CIA wants it."

"True… they also wanted me to remain in custody, and I was less than cooperative with that desire. Why should this be any different?" She sighed and, before I knew what was happening, her fist made a solid connection with my jaw. I stumbled back and looked at her in surprise. Sydney came at me again, but I easily sidestepped the attack, pushing her into a bookcase in the process. She recovered, and aimed a high kick at my head. I ducked and took her feet out before drawing a gun. She didn't move as I pointed it at her forehead.

"Go ahead. Do it," she whispered harshly. I frowned.

"Agent Bristow, that was far too easy."

"What's your point?"

"Why are they sending you on missions? You're quite obviously not at your peak."

"Are you implying that there's something wrong with my skills?" she demanded belligerently. With a sigh, I tucked the gun away and stepped back.

"No. I'm telling you there's something lacking with your mental facilities."

"Like what, I've gone crazy?

"More like you've just lost someone you cared for deeply, and there is no way you can focus on the mission at hand, as you so adeptly proved just moments ago. You could very easily be killed." She slowly made her way to her feet, and glared at me angrily.

"And I suppose you'd have some kind of problem with that?" Suddenly, it clicked. I stared at her in awe.

"You don't care. You want to die." She didn't rebut that, merely shifting her gaze to the disk in my hand.

"I don't believe this. The great Sydney Bristow, trying to get herself killed." In the blink of an eye, she went from angry to desperate.

"What the hell else do you expect from me, Sark? Vaughn died three weeks ago, and I promised Will I wouldn't kill myself. There is no other way."

"Yes, actually, there is. You could simply choose to live."

"How? How am I supposed to live with this?"

"You just have to keep breathing. Eventually it gets easier, I promise you Sydney." The fight had all gone out of her by that point, and she stared at me with loss in her eyes.

"And what if it hurts to breathe?" she whispered painfully.

"Then you let somebody else help you." She blinked rapidly, trying to fight back the tears. Her hand slowly reached up and removed her comm, and I could hear Dixon's concerned voice on the other end as she dropped it to the floor before stepping on it.

"I don't know how," she finally admitted as the tears slowly began.

"Come with me then. I'll show you how." She laughed harshly.

"Like you know anything about loss, or letting people help you."

"I do, actually. It's something I've become quite familiar with." She stared at me in wonder, and I held out my hand. After a moment's hesitation, she took it. From below the window she had come in through, Dixon's voice floated up.

"Are you ok Syd? Is Sark in there? Do you have the disk?" She started to move towards him, and I tightened my grip. 

"Please…" she whispered. I let go, and she walked to the window.

"Thank you Dixon," she called softly.

"For what?" he yelled up.

"Everything." With that, she turned back to me, and together, we walked away from the CIA.

Sark. The last person in the world I ever thought I'd end up with, and he's now the only one I trust.

After we left the Honduras, he told me what he had been doing there that night. Since splitting from Sloane and escaping CIA custody, he had gone back to being a freelancer, and had retrieved the disk for someone in Mexico. Once the disk was delivered and payment received, he ensured that he and I would both disappear as much as possible. And then, we moved to Germany, near a very small town called Dinkelsbuehl. We've been living here in relative peace for the past seven months, and whatever Sark did was obviously successful, as not one person from our old life has contacted us yet.

Including Will. 

After Vaughn's death, Will was my rock, my strength. He kept me going, in a way I couldn't for him after what happened with Francie. He was the only reason I didn't end my own life the same night as Vaughn died. He was the one who encouraged me to stay with the CIA, if only to hold on to relations with my father.

But when I ran, before Sark and I relocated to Germany, I called Will. I told him what I had decided to do. I don't know what I expected, but I certainly didn't think he would wish me luck before hanging up on me.

That was the first and only time I questioned my decision to go with Sark, to leave the CIA and my old life. Will and I had been through so much together, I wasn't sure how my sanity would fare without him around. 

I now know the answer to that question, and the result is none too promising. 

Hearing Sark sigh, I tear my eyes away from my window view, and face him.

"I wish you would let me in again," he says softly.

"There's nothing else you can do for me, Adam. I don't want to burden you more with my issues; you have enough to handle on your own."

"But you're in pain, Sydney, I can see it. And that troubles me, more than anything you could ever tell me."

"But I've already told you all of it. It just won't leave me alone, and there's nothing you can do about that!"

"Just talk, Sydney. It could help." I sighed.

"I just… I don't want to ever feel this way again." He nods in understanding.

"I know."

"No… I don't think you do, Adam."

"But I do. I fully understand that you could only ever want what I could never ever be."

She doesn't rebuke this statement, merely turns to look out the window again. The fact that she feels the need to return to her safe spot is all the confirmation I need.

"I'm sorry," she whispers.

"Don't be. I think we've always known." She nods slightly, and I stand up. The action draws her attention back to me, and her eyes are filled with fear.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to bed. Is that all right? Do you need me to stay?" She blinks, then shakes her head.

"No… no, that's fine." I hear the sadness in her voice, but I know she needs to be alone right now. So I return to our bed, but don't truly fall asleep until I've felt her presence in the room.

I awaken a few hours later, however, as something feels off. I reach over to check on Sydney, only to discover that not only is she gone, but she's not been in bed for some time. I try to quickly rub the sleep from my eyes as I reach over to flick on a light. An envelope sits on her pillow, addressed in her neat handwriting. I pick it up curiously, and get out of bed to read it.

_InSideAway_

_Inside a bubble...  
that somebody blew...  
I am the wall that you see through.  
Away from space...  
_**_I'm trapped inside..._**_  
There is no room...  
no room to hide.  
Inside a star...  
that everybody sees...  
_**_They see the sparkle but can't see me._**_  
Away from land...  
I'm trapped inside...  
I'm sorry I did it...  
sorry I lied.  
Inside a song...  
that nobody hears...  
It's only me...  
wet from tears.  
Away from grace...  
I'm trapped inside...  
_**_I'm floating away to the other side._**_  
Inside a world...  
that you created...  
_**_I've left this world..._**_  
myself has faded.  
Away from love...  
I'm trapped inside...  
I'm held from holding...  
_**_my body's died._**_  
Inside my soul...  
that you reach through...  
_**_I am the ghost that stays with you._**_  
Away from them...  
I watch you sleep...  
I visit your dreams...  
in peace so deep.  
Inside a bubble...  
that somebody blew...   
_**_I am your angel..._**_  
That somebody is you.  
Hide away...  
Fly away...  
Insideaway. _

          I stare at the poem for a long while, carefully rereading it with special attention to the parts she'd highlighted. It confirms my worst fears. 

          Dropping the paper onto the bed, I run down the hall to her safe spot. I sigh in relief as I spot her sitting in the windowsill, leaning back and staring out at the rising sun. I walk over to her and cautiously touched her shoulder, and can't hide my shock as she collapses into my arms.

          "Sydney?" I whisper. Then I see it: the pools of blood on the windowsill, the red trails running down her arms. I frantically check for a pulse, and find nothing. Glancing over her cold face, I finally see something that hasn't been there since I've known her: peace. I shut my eyes, and lean down to rest my forehead upon hers. She's still somewhat warm; had I woken just a bit earlier, I could have saved her.

          This thought consumes me, as I stare at the blood in the room and consider following Sydney's footsteps. But I shake the thought off almost as quickly as it arrives. I can survive without her; I did it for years, and now the time has arrived to face life again. The past seven months are relegated to the realm of dreams, as I prepare to face life alone once more.__

The poem Syd left for Sark wasn't written by me- I'm not that talented. It's by Jeff Hardy, wrestler/musician/really hot man.


End file.
